In My Dreams...

Last night I dreamed that my ex- fiance, his wife, and their NEWBORN BABY moved in next door.

Things in this dream that are true:
1. I have an ex-fiance.
2. He looked like he does in real life.

Things in this dream that could be true:
1. They could have a newborn. I haven't seen him in 5 years, so I wouldn't know.
2. His wife could have big frizzy blond '80's hair. I've never met her, so I wouldn't know.
3. They could, I suppose, move in next door. We do live in the same town. (But I don't think the universe hates me that much.)

Things in this dream that definitely are not, and could not, be true:
1. We live in a big white plantation-style mansion.
2. I was gardening (and wearing plastic shoes).
3. Their baby responded to my cooing by reciting college level trigonometry problems and solutions.
4. My ex was not stoned.

Okay, Dr. Freud, have fun!

I don't know about Sigmund, but here's what I took away from it:

#1. I want a baby.
(and that's all I'll say about that because, well, duh...)

#2. I want my husband. (he would say here, with a smirk, "Who doesn't?")
Some of you may be thinking, well duh, to this one too. Allow me to explain...

I doubt (and I could be wrong, it has happened before) that there has ever been a person diagnosed with infertility who hasn't said to their partner, in one way or another, "Are you sure you want to be with me?" And, if I am really, hatefully honest, I would bet that the other person gives that question some consideration. Am I sure I want to be with this person? Even if it means that my life will be nothing like I imagined it to be?

These are the deep, dark, dreadful questions that all couples dealing with infertility must face. Here's what I've learned. From experience. It is OK to ask yourself and your partner these questions. I would even go so far as to say that, to make it work, you MUST ask these questions. Out loud. To each other.

Any question is OK, it's the answer that matters.

When I woke up from my dream, I asked myself,
If I knew 5 years ago what I know now, would I still have broken up with my ex and started dating my husband?

Abso-fucking-lutely.

If I had known that my ex and I could have had a child together, would I have stayed with him?

Not for a million dollars.

If, before I married my husband, I could have somehow known, would I have changed a thing?

Hell, no.

Which brings us to
#3. I want my husband's baby.

Again, this is not as stupid of a statement as it may seem. For an infertile couple who has had to make a whole lot of difficult decisions about things they never would have believed they would need to think about, this statement does not come so easily.

We considered donor sperm. It would likely (and I say likely because I've learned not to take ANYTHING for granted anymore) be tremendously faster, cheaper, and easier than IVF.

(I say "rock on" to the women who refuse to ignore their biological and emotional drive to have a child simply because they are not in a relationship. I applaud the lesbian couples who use this option to expand their families and their love. And, I admire the wives who desire the experience of pregnancy and their husbands whose children may not be biologically their own, but they are their own. )

And yes, everyone, we have considered adoption.

These are good choices, and we are grateful to have them. And if we find that we must use them, I'm sure we will believe with all our hearts, that it has turned out to be the right thing for us. But, we will only use these options when we have exhausted our bank accounts and our bodies in our attempts to have a baby with my eggs and his sperm.

Again, a tough question... does it really matter where the baby comes from? Well, no, not really, in the end. Of course we will love our baby no matter what. But if I am painfully honest, I would have to say... yes, if it is at all possible, I want my baby to come from my husband.

I want my baby to have big brown eyes, wavy hair, and yes, even the big ears. Especially the big ears. I want him to crave knowledge and to always be reading 8 books at once (but none of them cover to cover). I want her to create a spreadsheet every time she has a problem to figure out. I want him to dream big, to believe in himself, and to want to change the world. I want her to be fiercely loyal, unwaveringly kind, and supremely generous.

Okay, so I don't want him to leave his dirty socks lying about, but I can live with that.